She chuckled with a hideous mirth. Dark clouds covered the land, created, of course, by her satanic witchcraft which had brought such victory to her hand. As she looked down upon the ruined buildings and humbled inhabitants below, she laughed at their fear and lack of hope. The war had been won. There was no denying it. The once great, advanced city of Odinsong was now under her command, and with it, the whole world would soon follow. But something was wrong. The screams she heard were not belonging to civilians. They were the screams of her own army. By Qara Silah, the writer invisible.